


I never knew I needed you (until you told me so)

by redsnake05



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-28
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-08 09:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsnake05/pseuds/redsnake05
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank is an asshole sometimes. But that doesn't mean that he can't learn things about himself and other people. He just needs some encouragement occasionally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I never knew I needed you (until you told me so)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [do_come_in](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=do_come_in).



Frank fumbled for his phone on the bedside table, cursing through the throbbing pain in his head as he searched for the thing. He was desperate to stop the noise, following it over the edge of the bed and into a pocket in his jeans, crumpled on the floor. He fished it out and lay back on the bed, flicking it open and holding it to his ear as he closed his eyes again.

"Where are you, fuckface?" demanded Bob. "The bus is leaving in 45 minutes and you're not in your fucking room."

"What?" rasped Frank. He cracked one eyelid, hoping for a clue, but one hotel ceiling looked much the same as any other. A body shifted on the bed next to him and Frank turned his head carefully, to avoid antagonising his headache any further. It wasn't bad, but there was no point tempting it to be worse by moving too much. A mop of messy black hair and one hand poked out of the covers, but nothing more. Frank closed his eyes again. "I'm not in my room," he said, finally.

"I know that," said Bob. "Now fucking tell me where you are so I know where to find you if you break Brian by being late."

"You're not making any fucking sense," Frank slurred, still mostly asleep. He wanted a fucking cigarette and a coffee large enough to bathe in. His mouth felt like ashes, and his body was pleasantly sore. He smiled as images from the night before assailed him. He'd been drunk, sure, but not _that_ drunk. Just enough to make everything a bit of a blur in his mind, a series of sense memories that were entirely worth keeping.

"The fuck?" asked a sleepy voice from under the blankets, causing Frank to risk the light to open his eyes. The arm poked out further, showing a vaguely familiar tattoo of piano keys, and the other person raised their head, showing tousled hair above sleepy eyes and a pouting mouth, still red and a little swollen, leaving Frank in no doubt as to the veracity of his memory of kissing, long and hard and dirty. "Your band?"

"Yeah," said Frank, licking dry lips and trying to remember the name of the man he'd just woken up naked with. It was embarrassing to remember how this guy whimpered when his lower lip was bitten but not remember what to call him. "Bus call in 45 minutes."

"We're in the same hotel," he said, vaguely gesturing before falling back into the pillows. "Two floors up or something."

"Frank," said Bob's voice, with that tinny insistence that meant that he had been trying to reclaim Frank's attention for some time. "Where the fuck are you?"

"Still in the hotel," replied Frank, looking again at the tattoo and trying to remember who had that particular ugly-ass tattoo amongst all the ugly-ass tattoos of his acquaintance. "Two floors up, apparently."

"What? Fuck, Frank, you haven't done anything stupid, have you?" The other man poked his head back out from the covers, licking his lips and looking at Frank with a slightly more wide awake expression.

"You totally promised me a blow job in the morning," he said.

"It depends," said Frank, into the phone, "what you mean by stupid." He looked at the other guy, noting the smooth skin of his shoulders and the bite mark low on his throat. Frank was fast losing any worry over not remembering his name, because he was fucking hot. The guy pouted, rolling onto his back and shoving the covers down. Frank swallowed hard and shut the phone. He would worry about remembering the guy's name after he'd sucked his cock. Tossing the phone to the edge of the bed, he rolled closer, hangover temporarily subdued but not gone. He pressed a kiss to a sharp hipbone, licking over a thumb-shaped bruise there before moving down to bite into the soft skin at the very top of his thigh. Fingers tangled in his hair and tugged just this side of too hard and Frank gasped and bit again, moving his hand up to urge the guy's legs open a little further. His own cock was hardening rapidly against the friction of the soft sheets.

Frank licked a stripe up the other man's cock, swirling his tongue over the head just once before pulling back and smirking lazily up the bed.

"You fucking tease," the guy said, tugging hard on Frank's hair. Frank smiled and opened his mouth, ready to sink down and taste the salt heaviness of a cock in his mouth. A loud banging on the door startled him and he flinched back. The hand in his hair turned soothing for a second, raking through Frank's hair comfortingly.

"Bus call in twenty minutes, asshole," came the voice through the door. "And why the fuck is your phone not on?" The guy dropped his hand from Frank's hair and sank back onto the sheets with a groan.

"Jesus, Spencer has a fucking radar for cockblocking, I swear," said the guy, covering his face with his hand for a moment. Frank stared up at him, something clicking in his head. Bus call, someone named Spencer banging on the door and shouting for him. A tattoo of piano keys and a mouth that invited kissing. He rolled away and stared up at the ceiling for a contemplative second. Unless he was very much mistaken, he'd just had the best night of sex he'd had in a long time with Brendon Urie.

Frank closed his eyes for a moment and let himself remember what he could, the kissing, hot and wet and lasting forever as they stripped their clothes off and stretched out on the bed. The amazing noises that Brendon had made as Frank fucked him as slow as he could, taking his time and drinking in the way Brendon had fallen apart and shaken and begged.

"Brendon!" came the shout through the door again. "I'm fucking serious. Get your ass ready."

"I wish I was fucking getting my ass ready," muttered Brendon. He lifted his voice to shout back, "Keep your fucking panties on, Spencer. I'm awake."

"Dude, he sounds kinda fierce," said Frank, after Spencer had left, with a final thump against the door and a last threat as to what he would do with Brendon if he was late. "You need to get ready."

"Yeah, fuck, I guess," said Brendon. Frank glanced at him to see him grinning back at Frank. "I'd rather be getting that blow job," he said. "You could manage it if you're fast."

"Twenty minutes?" asked Frank. Brendon slid his hand under his pillow and pulled out a tube of lube, opening it and squeezing some onto his palm. He moved over, plastering himself up against Frank's side, and wrapped his hand round Frank's half-hard cock, giving one long, slow, tight pull. Frank groaned and arched into it.

"Jerk each other off?" he suggested, already reaching for Brendon's hips to tug him closer, on top of Frank. Smirking, Brendon straddled Frank's hips and leaned down to bite hard into his neck as Frank fumbled a dollop of lube and got his own fingers on Brendon's cock. Then he closed his eyes and stroked, feeling Brendon doing the same on him. Brendon was small, all compact lines that fitted perfectly on Frank, not too big or too heavy. He squirmed and gasped on top of Frank, driving into Frank's grip as his own hand moved, his mouth dragging wetly against Frank's neck. He was hot and eager and _perfect_, guitar calluses on his fingers scraping just rough enough through the slick of the lube, a wicked twist at the top of his stroke making Frank moan and stutter, arching up into Brendon. Yeah, this was going to be over quick enough for Brendon to make his bus. Frank was going to be lucky if he lasted another minute. Brendon bucked into his grasp, thready, bitten-off groans leaving his throat.

"Fuck, so hot," muttered Frank, feeling his orgasm pooling, tense and urgent, at the base of his spine. He licked along the line of Brendon's jaw. "Gonna come?" he asked.

"Soon, yes," groaned Brendon. His hand worked on Frank's cock, dragging the knot of sensation even tighter. Frank felt a moment of stillness at the top before his body flew down the other side, uncurling fast and wild from its peak. Brendon bit hard into his neck as Frank groaned and shuddered, muffling the noises of his own climax. Frank sank back onto the sheet, languid and relaxed.

"Jesus," muttered Brendon. "I have to go." He peeled himself off Frank and stumbled into the bathroom. Frank could hear him clattering around in there, the sound of the tap running, the shuffle of feet, the muted sound of quiet singing. A washcloth landed on his stomach as Brendon walked out with a lumpy bag of toiletries. Frank wiped his belly off, slow swipes feeling cold and refreshing against his over-sensitive skin. Levering himself up and off the bed, Frank tugged his clothes from yesterday on and made a quick trip to the bathroom, then turned to Brendon, who was yawning through his cheerful humming as he shoved clothes into a duffel.

"Here, let me do that while you get dressed," said Frank. It was the least he could do, but Brendon gave him a beaming smile and a quick hug, as if he'd been expecting Frank to pull on his clothes and shuffle out the door without a word. He frowned to himself and scooped up a handful of t-shirts, rolling them efficiently and shoving them into the duffel. He had just finished, and Brendon was lacing up his sneakers, when the door fairly rattled from a thump.

"Brendon, let's get going," called Spencer again. Frank looked around the room for his shoes, finally spying them poking out from under a chair across the room. He retrieved them as Brendon crossed to the door and flung it open dramatically. Some of his effect was spoiled by Spencer's head being turned, conversing with someone out of sight.

"I'm ready," he announced loudly. Spencer turned back, eyes falling on Frank, tying the knot on his first sneaker while trying to get a good look at Spencer Smith. He wasn't sure he'd met the dude in person before, and the way his eyes narrowed as they raked over Frank, and the way his hips cocked and his hands settled there, confirmed his first impression. This kid was fierce. Spencer turned his head again.

"Bryar," he called. "It turns out that I have seen Iero this morning." Brendon huffed and bounced back over to the bed, collecting up his wallet and cellphone and keys, while Frank laced his other shoe and watched the doorway with every appearance of unconcern. Bob loomed into sight above Spencer's shoulder, arms folded over his chest. The look on his face was almost a perfect echo of Spencer's, and Frank's lip twitched. Fuck, those two were _priceless_. Just looking at them was a balm for his headache and the lingering dryness in his mouth. He stood and stretched, glancing across the bed to where Brendon was just putting the last things into the back pocket of his impossibly tight jeans. Frank took a moment to appreciate the sight before heading round the bed and tilting Brendon's chin up with one hand. He was pretty sure his breath was still a little rank, but he was also pretty sure that Brendon wouldn't mind.

Deliberately palming Brendon's ass, he deepened the kiss, smiling slightly into it when Brendon's fingers dug into his shoulders. Fuck, Brendon could kiss. His lips were pliant and soft, opening easily under the pressure from Frank's, and he arched up into Frank's body just a little. If only they'd had more time, Frank would be tipping him onto the bed and peeling him back out of those ridiculously skinny jeans. Instead he pulled back and kissed Brendon one last time, on the cheek.

"See you round, Brendon," he said. He turned back to the door and the twin disapproving glares fixed on him, adding just the faintest touch of a swagger to his walk. He wasn't quite sure why they were acting like such uptight assholes when he had plenty of time to make his bus call.

"Yeah, bye, Frank," called Brendon. He sounded a little odd too, like he was surprised by something, or maybe disappointed. Frank didn't bother stopping to check. Nothing was going to ruin his exit. He pushed past Bob and Spencer, maybe hipchecking Spencer into Bob a little more roughly than he would ordinarily. He felt great.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Frank continued to feel great for at least four hours, getting down to the bus with a minute or two to spare and rolling straight into his bunk. He felt pleasantly tired when he woke up, muscles a little sore in his thighs and stomach, hangover nearly gone. He stretched, glad that he'd gone to that stupid industry function after all instead of staying back at the hotel like a total lame-ass like Gerard or Ray. Even Bryar had gone to the party, not that he knew how to have fun.

Tugging his jeans on and zipping them up as he made his way to to the front of the bus, Frank wondered if there would still be coffee in the pot. There was, and Frank was just reaching for the handle of the pot, his mouth already watering, when a large hand shot out in front of him and grabbed the pot. Frank yelped indignantly, and glared at Bob. Bob poured the rest of the coffee into his cup and glared right back.

"That was the last of the coffee, asshole," Frank said.

"Brendon Urie was a nice, innocent boy with romantic leanings," said Bob.

"You took the last of the coffee because I hooked up - perfectly consensually - with another dude?" asked Frank. He couldn't believe this. Bob looked serious, more serious than Frank had seen for a while.

"You took a night of pleasure with Brendon Urie and didn't even get his phone number," replied Bob.

"Phone number? What? Why would I?" asked Frank. "It's not like I'm gonna see him again. And did you seriously just say _night of pleasure_ with a straight fucking face?"

"Yeah," said Bob, ignoring the baffled look Frank was giving him. "About how you're not going to see him again." He downed the last of his coffee in a long, obnoxious gulp and wrestled Frank's phone out of his pocket with one hand, getting his out with the other. He flipped them both open and began to scroll through his one until he found what he was looking for.

"What?" screeched Frank, tugging fruitlessly at Bob's arm. "You steal my coffee, you steal my fucking phone, you start talking like a fucking gothic fucking heroine, and you won't even _explain_?"

"In three weeks," said Bob, thumbing something into Frank's phone, "we will be in Las Vegas at the same time as Panic are having a mini-break or something there. You will see Urie again, and you will not be some asshole who fucks and runs. And if you try, you will never have coffee in the morning again, do you understand me?" He shoved Frank's phone back into his hand and glared at him, slipping his own phone back into his pocket.

"What?" screeched Frank again. He couldn't fucking believe this. Bob just glared back at him, solid and immovable, with that stubborn look on his face that he sometimes got right before he punched dickwad dudes in the face for smacking their girlfriends or harrassing some chick. "Fucking what?" he repeated. Bob crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at him and Frank cursed him for being so big and fucking _imposing_. "Let me get this straight," Frank said, "if I don't see Brendon Urie again and treat him like the special fairy princess you think he is, you won't let me have coffee?"

"Pretty much," agreed Bob. He sounded a little bored now, like Frank was stupid not have clicked on to what he was getting at sooner.

"Bob, dude, there is no need for this. Urie was clearly into it. He was fucking gagging for it." Frank just couldn't understand the problem here. Bob unfolded his arms and shoved Frank, hard. Frank staggered back into the tiny counter.

"Sometimes," Bob hissed, "you are such a fucking asshole." He pushed past, elbowing Frank hard, and stalked back towards the bunks. Frank just stared at the empty coffee pot, then at the doorway through which Bob had just disappeared.

"Sometimes, I think I am the only fucking _sane person_ on this entire bus full of _lunatics_ and _assholes_," shouted Frank, finally, knowing that the moment had already passed but being unable to help himself.

"That's not very polite," said Mikey, coming up behind him. "What about Ray?" Frank whirled round and stared at him. Mikey just gave him the smallest possible half-smile and leaned against the other side of the counter. "Could you just do whatever it is that Bob wants you to do?" he asked. "He's hidden all the coffee and won't give it back until you give in. Gerard's been crying for the last half hour."

Frank's mouth dropped open again. "He's _hidden_ it?" he asked, nearly whispering.

"Yes," said Mikey. "Ray even tried the puppy eyes, but he stayed strong. Whatever you did, just fucking give in. We won't last a day without caffeine without killing you and dumping your body in a ditch somewhere."

"He's _hidden the coffee_?" asked Frank, again. Brian poked his head up from the couch and glared at him over the top. Frank was pretty sure he looked as bewildered as he felt. It was starting to seem that Bob might be serious. Why would he care about Frank's hook ups?

"Stop gaping, Iero," said Brian. "Do whatever it is Bob wants, or I will help Mikey hide your fucking body. If Gerard starts crying again, I will gut you myself."

Frank held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He wasn't sure why this meant so much to Bob, but if he was going to threaten the caffeine supply, then Frank was just going to have to deal with it. Sure, he hadn't been planning on seeing Brendon again, but he was pretty sure he could bring himself to hit that a second time. Or he could bail at the last minute.

"Fine," said Frank. "Okay, whatever." He raised his voice and shouted towards the bunks, "I'm fucking going to do it right now."

"I'll know when you've done it," Bob shouted back to him. "And if you cancel or stand him up, I swear to god that today will be just the smallest taste of the hell you'll go though."

Frank stomped off towards the tiny bathroom, phone clutched in his hand. Fuck, he hated his life sometimes. Leaning against the counter in the bathroom, he glared at the door as he waited for the number to connect. The _hello_ at the other end of the line was small and maybe a little hesitant.

"Brendon?" asked Frank. "It's Frank Iero here."

"Frank?" asked Brendon. Frank was sure he could hear a note of incredulous surprise to Brendon's voice. He felt a momentary sense of vindication. Brendon hadn't been expecting to hear from him after all. Then Frank heard the delighted tone to his next words, "It's nice of you to call." He rapidly revised his estimation. Brendon hadn't been expecting him to call, no, but he had been hoping that Frank would. Suddenly, he felt like an asshole, even without Bob's caffeine-depriving treachery.

"We're gonna be in Vegas in three weeks," he blurted.

"So are we," Brendon replied. His smile was clearly audible.

"We should hang out. You could come see a show, and maybe show me round a bit."

"Yeah, I could do that. We're usually total lame-asses when we're home, though. I barely see anything except my apartment and the supermarket."

"Your apartment sounds fine," said Frank. He could practically feel Brendon beaming happily down the line, and closed his eyes. He hadn't meant to say that at all. He wasn't supposed to be stringing the kid along, and the implication of his words was pretty much the definition of stringing a kid along.

"Awesome," enthused Brendon. "How about you give me a ring when you know more details."

"Yeah, I have your number now," said Frank. He inwardly rolled his eyes at his inanity. He felt like he'd been blindsided repeatedly since he'd woken up.

"Yes, you do," agreed Brendon, sounding overjoyed at the fact. Frank rubbed his free hand over his eyes and wondered just when all this had spiraled out of his control. He should have just bailed on Brendon after fucking him, instead of giving in to the lure of cuddles. Then Bob wouldn't know anything and Frank wouldn't be locked in the bathroom with the future of the entire band's caffeine dependency riding on his shoulders. "Shit, I've got to go, we're sound checking soon," Brendon continued.

"Oh, okay," said Frank. He could hear the curious flatness to his voice, and shook his head. There was no way he should feel _disappointed_ at losing the cheerful sound of Brendon's voice in his ear.

"But you could ring me back later?" Brendon said, with a hopeful, questioning lilt at the end of the sentence. Frank smiled in spite of his growing conviction that this was a bad idea. He already knew he'd be ringing back later, even if he would never admit that it was for any other reason than to get Bob off his back.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

"That's what you're wearing?" asked Bob, leaning against the doorway from the front lounge to the bunks. Frank looked down at himself, then back up at Bob. Bob crossed his arms over his chest and raised a faintly contemptuous eyebrow. Frank gritted his teeth together and forced a smirk.

"Hey, I'm only going to be seeing the dude's apartment, and probably not too much of that aside from, you know, _his bed_." Frank watched Bob tense, taking vindictive pleasure in the way he held himself back from punching Frank. Brendon was hot, and surprisingly funny down the phone and in texts, but Bob didn't need to know that Frank had gotten used to the daily routine of talking. That he'd found himself taking an interest in Brendon that wasn't just in the tempting curve of his ass. Not that there hadn't been flirting in those phone calls and texts. Frank might be trying not to string the kid along, but he wasn't a _saint_.

"Remember what I told you, Iero," Bob said. "Fuck this up and you'll wish I had just cut off the coffee supply."

"Oh, man, see, I totally forgot to get flowers for my prom date, because, you know what? He's not my prom date." Frank sat on the edge of his bunk and pulled on his last pair of clean socks. Bob should totally appreciate the gesture he was making here.

"He's not going to be the boy you fuck and fuck over either," said Bob.

"Why the fuck do you care anyway?" asked Frank. He had asked this question, and variations on it, several times. He didn't expect an answer now either, so he just watched as Bob's lips compressed and his arms tightened across his chest. Frank wasn't going to bother to deny that he was curious. "Kid's a rock star, isn't he? He should be used to being fucked and dropped," he continued, wondering if he could goad Bob into an explosion.

"Fuck you," said Bob. "_You_ drop the fucking attitude. If you let Brendon down, it's going to be so gently that he thinks that he got tired of you, not the other way round." A sharp knock at the door made Bob turn his head. Frank stood and pushed past him into the front lounge as Ray went down the steps to open the door.

"I don't need you telling me how to run my life, asshole," hissed Frank, running his fingers through his hair one last time. Then Brendon bounded up the steps behind Ray, neat and scrubbed-looking, like he'd just showered recently. Like maybe he cared about looking good for Frank. Frank felt a combination of lustful appreciation and lingering guilt over being an asshole, no matter how much he tried to deny it. And maybe, buried down deep, was a little spark of happiness that Brendon seemed to like him for his own sake.

"Hey," said Brendon, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet. Frank smiled in spite of himself and wished he had taken the time to change into a nicer t-shirt. He went forward and found himself giving Brendon a hug, one palm flat between his shoulder blades, pressing Brendon close. Brendon's bounce vanished and he stilled in the embrace, one hand curling around Frank's bicep so his fingers just brushed over bare flesh. Frank felt a little shock of awareness go through him, like his body had just woken up to the thought that it might be getting laid.

"Hey yourself," said Frank, quietly into Brendon's ear. Brendon shivered a little and tipped his head forward, pushing his face into Frank's neck for just a second. "You wanna get going?"

"Yeah, sure," Brendon replied. He pulled back reluctantly and hesitated, glancing down at Frank's hand where it rested on his waist. Frank smiled at him, forgetting everything but the need to stop Brendon looking so nervous. Taking Brendon's hand he tugged him down the steps, pausing at the top to flip Bob off, just to prove that he was still an asshole, and was not cowed by Bob's threats.

"See you for the show, fuckers," he said. He saw Bob's lips tighten even further before he disappeared out the door and into the car park.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Brendon pushed open the door to his apartment on a nervous rush of words, ushering Frank in and showing him where to leave his shoes and asking him if he wanted a drink almost in the same breath. Frank could hear his nerves and worry, so he reached out and put his hand on the back of Brendon's neck. Brendon leaned back into it slightly, tilting his head back.

"You don't want that drink, then?" he asked. Frank stepped closer and slid his other arm around Brendon's waist, letting it rest heavily over his stomach. Pressing his face into the side of Brendon's neck, he shook his head.

"Relax," he said. "You don't have to be so nervous." Brendon gave a short laugh and seemed to relax just a little more.

"Do you want to go to bed then?" Brendon asked. There was something about the way he framed the question, the way he angled away from Frank just a little, that made Frank wonder if maybe Bob had been right about this kid all along. Frank squeezed him slightly and kissed his neck. There was a slow bubble of anticipation working its way through his belly, but he wanted Brendon to be comfortable first. He inwardly cursed Bob for making him see Brendon as a real person, for forcing him into this. He kissed Brendon's neck again anyway.

"Of course," he said. "You're hot. But that's not all I'm here for." Frank could feel Brendon's smile against the side of his face when he turned his head, and more of the tension eased from his shoulders.

"You've been on tour for a while. You're really here for a shower, aren't you?" asked Brendon. Frank laughed quietly into his skin and Brendon relaxed further, looping one arm up and around Frank's neck, sliding through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I have fluffy towels. And one of those foot spa things for afterwards. You look like a gardenia and sandalwood sort of a dude."

"Oh man, the fluffy towels clinch it," said Frank. Every time Brendon relaxed a little further, Frank felt better too. He deliberately kept his voice light and teasing. "Lead me to your shower and your floral-scented toiletries." Brendon's fingers tightened just a little, tugging on Frank's hair. Frank nearly purred with pleasure. He loved having his hair played with, and wondered if it was a thing for Brendon as well.

"Come on, then," said Brendon, pulling free from Frank and looping his fingers around his wrist. Towing him towards the bathroom, Brendon smiled over his shoulder at Frank. "I think there might be rose and vanilla shampoo." Laughing, Frank followed Brendon into the bathroom. He stilled and looked at Brendon seriously when the other man turned and slid his fingers up Frank's t-shirt, scraping over bare skin and making him shiver. He looked intent on what he was doing, shy and determined.

"I meant it," said Frank, "I didn't just come here for sex."

"I know," said Brendon, with a small smile. "But I want to get you naked and in a shower." He bit his lip and looked up at Frank. Frank couldn't help but respond, the bubble of anticipation sinking and coalescing into a slow burn of lust. Fuck, Brendon was hot and Frank felt his body responding. His cock twitched in his jeans and his nipples hardened. He gasped as Brendon's fingers skated over them as he tugged the shirt higher. Pushing the cotton higher, urging Frank to lift his arms and get rid of it, Brendon bent his head and sucked on one nub. Frank gasped again as teeth scraped lightly over his skin, followed by more suction.

"Fuck," said Frank, "okay, you've convinced me." Brendon lifted his head and smiled, this one more confident, almost with an edge of predatory to it. He stepped back and stripped off his own shirt before reaching into the stall and setting the water running.

"Get naked then," he said, dropping his own fingers to the button of his jeans and popping it open. Frank watched as the zip lowered, exposing more pale skin that was just begging for Frank's fingers and mouth over it, a strip of wiry pubic hair following. Belatedly, he realised that he needed to get naked too, stripping off his own jeans and underwear and kicking them aside. He looped his arms around Brendon's neck and tugged him close, loving the way their skin rubbed together, the way Brendon's fingers went straight to his hips to hold him steady. They were about the same size, and Frank smiled as he nuzzled along Brendon's jaw.

"This is nice," he said. Brendon made a questioning noise so Frank continued, "Being able to stand here and kiss you without getting a crick in my neck. I like that you're not a giant." Brendon laughed a little into Frank's hair, turning his head to catch Frank's mouth in an open-mouthed kiss that was all promise of more. He walked them backwards and over the lip of the shower without mishap.

"Dude, that was amazingly coordinated. I never would have managed that without braining us both," said Frank.

"Me neither, usually," admitted Brendon. "I must be so fixated on actually getting to kiss you that my libido takes over from my sense of coordination." Frank laughed out loud then and pushed Brendon against the wall. He let the water stream over his shoulders as he kissed Brendon. This kiss was hot and wet, the slick slide of tongues and the sharp nip of teeth to lips. Frank rubbed his hardening cock against Brendon's thigh, feeling Brendon buck up against him. Frank _wanted_, with an intensity that surprised him. He wanted to hear more of Brendon's noises, wanted to watch him come apart for Frank. He'd forgotten, in the past weeks, just how inflammatory Brendon looked, with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth open on a moan.

"God, you're hot," breathed Frank. "So fucking hot." He skated his fingers down Brendon's ribs and over the sharp jut of his hipbones, sliding back to cup his ass. "I want to lie you down and _do_ things to you, so fucking hot you can't even know."

"Fuck, yes," said Brendon. "God, I want." He swallowed hard round a tiny moan. "I want to ride you. Want to watch you underneath me." Frank tipped his head forward to bite Brendon's neck. Brendon huffed out a little noise, his fingers tightening almost to the point of pain in Frank's hair and on his shoulder, making Frank gasp and bite again. Brendon pulled on his hair, urging his face back up so he could take Frank's mouth in a hard kiss, one with an edge of desperation. Frank pressed against him, angling them both together from shoulder to groin. His thigh wedged between Brendon's, pressing him into the tile so Frank could grind against him. Frank remembered the morning in the hotel room, how Brendon had looked when Frank was going to suck his cock, and he pulled back and out of the kiss.

Smirking, Frank eased down onto his knees. He looked up Brendon's body, nuzzling into the smooth skin of his lower belly, teasing the skin with little licks and kisses. Brendon tightened his grip in Frank's hair.

"You're such a fucking tease," he growled. Frank shivered a little. Brendon tugged on his hair. "Am I gonna have to hold you still and fuck your mouth?" he asked. Frank couldn't stop the way he moaned a little into Brendon's skin at the thought. He knew that Brendon would be just rough enough, holding him still and encouraging him with those dirty pleas and promises. Brendon dug the fingers of his free hand into Frank's jaw, tilting his face up. "Fuck, you want it, look at you." Frank looked back at him, tongue flicking out to lick his lips. Brendon used his thumb to press Frank's jaw open, pulling him forward by his hair.

Frank opened up around him, licking and sucking as best he could as Brendon steadily pulled him forward on his cock. Frank fisted his hands on his own thighs. He was aching with his own arousal and the desire to touch himself. He knew it wouldn't take him long to get himself off, not with the way Brendon groaned as Frank swallowed him all the way down, the way his fingers tugged on Frank's hair and added the sharp skitter of pain to the pleasure running under his skin. Brendon pulled back and thrust sharply forward once more. Frank sucked him, watching the vulnerable arch of Brendon's throat as he tipped his head back and groaned around a mouthful of mingled praise and supplication. Frank loved this, way he could wring these reactions from Brendon; the unlikely power of being on his knees. He loved the noises Brendon was making.

"Don't come," gasped Brendon, looking down at him. His eyes were wide and dark, his chest heaving. Frank hollowed his cheeks and sucked harder; Brendon retaliated with a vicious thrust and the soothing slide of his hand over Frank's cheek. "Don't come," he repeated. "Fuck me afterwards. Want you to." Then he arched back again, body twisted tight with arousal under Frank's mouth. He was going to come soon, Frank could see it in every line of his body, each shaky breath he took, the way that moans spilled from his mouth in a steady stream. Frank let Brendon control the pace, setting it with his hand in Frank's hair. Frank let Brendon's arousal feed his, enjoying the way his own body ached and wanted.

When Brendon came, with a loud moan and a final thrust of his hips, Frank swallowed greedily, easing him through every last moment of his orgasm. When he was finally spent, Frank climbed slowly to his feet and tilted Brendon's head up for a kiss. Brendon opened to him languidly, all laziness in his response.

"I can have another shower later, right?" asked Frank.

"You can have whatever you want," answered Brendon. Frank kissed him again, hands reaching round to grab his ass and squeeze it roughly. Brendon melted into him, humming happily.

"Right now, I want to fuck you," said Frank. He smiled as Brendon reached over his shoulder to turn off the water. He could hardly wait.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Frank leaned against the side of the hotel and looked up at the grey New York sky. It was cold and uncomfortable and he was early. Brendon must have underestimated how long the bus would take to get through the traffic. Frank wasn't sure why he was freezing outside a hotel at 8.30am in the morning when he could be at home and in bed enjoying a brief break between the legs of the current tour. He ignored the voice in his head that sounded just like Bob and concentrated instead on the prospect of hot sex in his future. His phone beeped with a new message and he pulled it out with a smile. His very near future.

_Bus is sloooow_ he read. _You'll have to fuck me fast to make up for it_. Frank could just imagine it, Brendon against the wall just inside the door to his room. He was small enough that Frank could hold him up, digging his fingers into Brendon's ass while Brendon's legs wrapped round his waist. Frank checked his pocket again for condoms and lube before he texted back.

_i hope ur ready for me_, it read. Frank smirked as he typed.

_Fingerd myself opn in bus bthrm_ read the reply text. Frank's smirk faded as he bit back a groan at the image of Brendon contorted around in one of the tiny bus bathrooms, slicking his fingers up and working them into his ass. He was probably still wet and stretched, perfect for Frank to lift up and pin against the wall. Frank was going to fuck him hard and fast and just at the edge of too rough before taking his time on the second round.

_whats ur eta?_ he sent back.

_impatient?_ came the reply, almost immediately. Frank was definitely impatient. He could hardly wait. He wanted Brendon right now, wanted to listen to him moan and beg so prettily for Frank's mouth, Frank's fingers, Frank's cock. _Coming round corner now_.

Frank looked up to see the bus lumbering down the street. He grinned and shoved his phone back into his pocket. Perfect. Brendon was the first down the steps with his duffel and a big smile. Frank grabbed him and spun him round, crashing into Spencer as he put Brendon down at the end. Spencer glared at him and Frank held his hands up and grinned. Brendon just grabbed his wrist and towed him towards the doors.

"Spencer's got somewhere else to stay," said Brendon, "so I have a room to _myself_."

"Just you, rattling round in that big old room?" asked Frank. "Won't you get lonely?"

"Are you offering me your company, Iero?" asked Brendon. "Cause I know this guy, you see. He's gonna come over and fuck me until I can't stand up anymore."

"Yeah?" replied Frank. "How do you feel about that?"

"If I don't get his dick up my ass soon I'm gonna scream," said Brendon. He fidgeted impatiently in the mercifully empty lobby. The other members of the band trickled in, Spencer looking intently at his Sidekick and then out the windows with a huge smile.

"Dudes, my ride's here. See you for soundcheck," he said, hefting his bag and leaving. Brendon waved enthusiastically as Spencer walked out and to a tiny red car. Frank hummed to himself. That was Bob's favourite kind of car to hire, when he got a chance to stay somewhere for long enough to make it worthwhile. He didn't bother thinking any further, turning to Brendon instead and leaning close to whisper in his ear.

"I want to fuck you right now," he said. Brendon smirked and tilted his head to whisper back.

"Right here, where everyone can see? You're such a dirty boy, Iero."

"Against the wall there," said Frank, voice low. His cock was hard inside his jeans, and he wasn't sure that he was even going to make it in the door to Brendon's room if the key didn't turn up soon. He licked his lips. "Would you like that? Everyone seeing how you moan for me? The way you want my cock so badly?"

Brendon's eyes fluttered closed for an instant, and his mouth opened to reply when someone shoved into them hard from the side.

"Keep it in your pants for two minutes longer, Urie, fuck," said a big dude, handing Brendon a key. Brendon smiled at Frank and wrapped one hand around his wrist, dragging him towards the elevator. Frank followed eagerly. They rode up in anticipatory silence, Brendon fidgeting restlessly and looking at Frank with heated, sideways glances. Frank watched him, thinking of those twitching fingers digging hard into his shoulders or scratching across his back.

Brendon got the door to his room open and barely made it inside before Frank kicked the door shut and shoved him up against the wall. Brendon dropped his duffel, arms twining round Frank's neck as their lips met in a messy, hard kiss. Frank felt hot and desperate as he skated his fingers up Brendon's shirt. Breaking the kiss for just an instant, he got it over Brendon's head and raked his fingers back down over Brendon's chest. Brendon moaned into the kiss, running his finger up into Frank's hair and holding him still. They kissed for a moment longer, Frank struggling with Brendon's belt, before he pulled back with a hiss of impatience.

"Naked, now," he ordered, already stripping off his own shirt. He toed off his shoes and unfastened his jeans hastily, retrieving a condom from his pocket before pushing them down his thighs, watching as Brendon did the same. Frank kicked his pants and underwear away, already ripping open the packet and sliding the condom down his cock. Pinning Brendon back against the wall the instant he was also naked, Frank kissed him hard.

"Please tell me you weren't joking about the lube," he said, one hand running up Brendon's thigh and back to the cleft of his ass.

"Not joking," said Brendon. He wrapped one leg high around Frank's waist, rocking up into him.

"Fuck," mumbled Frank into the skin under Brendon's ear. "That is so fucking hot."

"Fuck me now," ordered Brendon. Frank hooked both hands under Brendon's ass and urged him up, nudging himself forward and into position. He slid into Brendon on one long stroke, fingers digging deep into Brendon's ass. Moaning, Brendon's fingers tightened on Frank's shoulders as his other leg lifted to wrap around Frank's waist. Frank groaned and rocked up into Brendon, enjoying the slick, tight heat of his ass. Brendon's heels dug into Frank's sides, and Frank started to move, pulling back and thrusting forward at a quick pace.

"Fuck," gasped Brendon. "Oh, jesus, don't stop. Been waiting for this, god, so good."

"Been imagining it?" panted Frank. Brendon looked wrecked, eyes dark under heavy lids, mouth red and swollen from Frank's lips and teeth. He was sheened with sweat already, working himself on Frank's cock as well as he could in his position.

"Yeah," said Brendon. "Fuck, yeah, I've been imagining it. Every time you rang me I thought of it. So glad you agreed to meet me."

Frank swallowed hard. He suddenly realised that meeting Brendon had never been in any doubt. He hadn't questioned it once in the last month, hadn't once thought of how hard this was and how he didn't want the hassle. Brendon moaned and twisted impatiently.

"Frank," he groaned, "fuck me, come on." Frank breathed out shakily into Brendon's collarbone, hips starting to move again automatically, as if he hadn't just had a major fucking epiphany. Frank tried to think, but it was impossible with Brendon tugging on his hair, biting his earlobe and encouraging him with bitten off pleas and moans. Pinning Brendon solidly to the wall, Frank thrust fast and hard. He could tell Brendon was close, reading it in the volume of his noises, the tightness of his muscles under Frank's hands.

"Shit, Brendon, fuck, really didn't mean to," Frank babbled. He buried his face in Brendon's neck and pounded through a few final strokes. Brendon came hard between them, shuddering through his climax with his legs locked around Frank's waist and his lip caught between his teeth. Frank groaned into Brendon's skin and followed him over, grinding and straining to be as close as he could.

He eased them to the floor with an undignified noise and only one bruised knee. Brendon sagged against the wall, breathing hard, legs still wrapped around Frank. Frank leaned on his chest and concentrated on dragging in enough air. Finally he eased back and untangled them both with languid help from Brendon.

"Jesus," said Brendon, propping himself up against the wall as he stood. Frank looked up from where he was dealing with the condom and smiled ruefully back at him. He was still staggering a little inside from the realisation that Brendon was something more important than a convenient hook up, but there was something irresistible about the way he looked so happy and well-fucked. There were marks from Frank's fingers on his hips, and his teeth on his neck, and all Frank wanted to do was tumble him down onto the sheets and make more.

"Do you need a nap?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Fuck you," said Brendon, without heat. "I've got the shorter recovery period, so just give me a moment and I'll fuck you into the mattress."

"Yeah," said Frank, "cool." He could already see it; Brendon bent over him with Frank's legs over his shoulders, grinding into his ass so good and slow, until Frank couldn't stand it anymore and begged him to go faster. Frank could see all the possibilities, spread out in front of him, and the only one that mattered was the one with Brendon in it, however he wanted to be there.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Frank flung the door to his hotel room open and dragged Brendon in by the front of his hoodie. Kicking the door shut, he pushed Brendon against it and kissed him, wet and dirty. He'd been waiting for this, barely contenting himself with phonecalls, texts and emails. He'd been wanting Brendon's skin under his fingers, Brendon's filthy noises pressed straight into his mouth, not filtered down a phone line. It had been nearly two long months since they had seen each other face to face.

"It's nice to see you too," said Brendon.

"Jesus, fuck, I've missed you," said Frank. "Why does the zipper on your hoodie hate me so?"

"You've missed me?" asked Brendon, stilling Frank's hands with his own. Frank looked into his face, reading the serious edge to his expression. He swallowed hard and looked away. He'd been trying to play it cool since he'd last seen Brendon, trying not to give himself away. He'd given himself away this time, though. He looked back at Brendon, now seeing the hope hiding there.

"Yeah," said Frank. "I have." He paused. "Is that... I mean, no. Is that okay?"

Brendon laughed gently and pulled Frank into a hug. "Yeah," he said, rubbing his fingers gently over the nape of Frank's neck. "Yeah, it's better than okay, really. I've kinda had a crush on you since the beginning. I thought you were just having fun, though." Frank squeezed Brendon tight, burying his face in his neck.

"That too," he said, voice muffled into Brendon's neck. "But it's a bit more now."

Brendon kissed the side of Frank's head, the shell of his ear. "Good. That's good."

"You wanna go to bed?" asked Frank, not moving his head. He felt a little embarrassed still, even though it was obvious that Brendon wasn't worried in the slightest by Frank's confession.

"I thought that's not all you're interested in," said Brendon, smile evident in his voice. He rubbed his hand up and down Frank's back.

"We can snuggle and watch TV afterwards and order room service," said Frank. "I can treat you right."

"Where's your roommate?" asked Brendon.

"I'm sharing with Bob," replied Frank. "I'll ring and ask him. I should do that before we get naked, right?"

"Yeah," laughed Brendon, pressing a kiss to his temple. "I'm not going to share your ass with Bob Bryar." Frank smiled as he stepped back and wrestled his phone out of his pocket. He could hear the implied question there, and he was unexpectedly happy to answer it.

"I don't want anyone else to share my ass with you," he said. "Particularly not Bob, who is large and fierce and also capable of hiding coffee. Come to bed while I call."

"Dude sounds like Spencer," said Brendon, toeing off his shoes. Frank tilted his head and considered it as he padded back to the bed.

"Yeah, that kid looks fierce too." He flipped his phone open and found Bob's number and pressed the buttons. Brendon stripped off his hoodie and his t-shirt before he flopped down onto the bed, splaying out on his belly. Frank took a moment to appreciate him, concentrating on the phone only when Bob answered.

"Fucking what, Iero?" he said. "I'm busy."

"Keep your panties on, Bryar. Coming back to the room tonight?"

"Are you keeping Brendon with you all night?" Bob asked.

"Fuck yeah," grinned Frank, watching as Brendon wriggled onto his back and flicked the button open on his jeans.

"Then no, I have somewhere else to sleep," Bob replied.

"Awesome," said Frank. Bob just snorted and disconnected. Frank clicked the phone shut. "One problem solved," he said. "Now we just have to get you out of those jeans." Brendon grinned and worked the jeans down over his hips, wriggling almost obscenely as he got the denim down his thighs. Frank grabbed the hems and tugged, tossing them off the bed. He tilted his head. "Turquoise briefs, Brendon. Really?"

"Are you wearing cartoon boxers today?" asked Brendon. "How about you take off those clothes and let me see?" Frank slipped off his t-shirt and dropped it on Brendon's jeans. He loved the way Brendon watched him, all dark eyes and a quick swipe of his tongue over his lips. He unbuckled his belt and pulled it slowly from the loops before adding it to the pile. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, but didn't push them down, merely resting his thumbs in the open vee of material.

"Commando?" asked Brendon. "One would almost think you were planning to get lucky." Frank just grinned and shoved his pants down. He was already lucky, and he knew it. He climbed onto the bed and stretched out partly on top of Brendon. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Brendon's cheek. "Of course," Brendon continued, looping his arms around Frank's neck, "you'd be right." He pulled Frank a little closer, opening himself for a soft, slow kiss. Frank settled, propping himself on one elbow and kissing Brendon back. Frank didn't hurry. He wanted to take his time and enjoy Brendon. If they were going to do this, they needed to savour what they had together because it wasn't going to be easy. Frank didn't want to think about the future, though, he just wanted to make what they had now last.

Brendon seemed to catch Frank's mood, confining his fidgeting and restless energy to the wander of his fingers over Frank's shoulders and through his hair. Their kisses stayed slow and unhurried, both enjoying the slide of lips and tongue, the rougher nip of teeth. Brendon was almost melted into the bed, Frank pressed all along his side, as close as he could get. They made out until Frank's lips felt swollen and his arm hurt from holding himself up. He rolled onto his side.

"What time do you have to be ready tomorrow?" asked Frank. Brendon smoothed his palm down Frank's side.

"We have an interview at 9am, but nothing else all day. I have to be in the lobby by 8am. You?"

"We have a free day tomorrow. Gerard has an interview, but I can lounge in bed naked for as long as I like."

"So I can come back after the interview and take advantage of you again?"

"I'll have to check that Bob has somewhere to stay," said Frank, "but I like the sound of that." He couldn't stop himself from beaming happily, even though he knew he probably looked like a dork. Or like he was in love. Whichever.

"We could go and check what Spencer is up to. We're in the same hotel, maybe Bob could share with him."

"I like the way you think," said Frank. "Do you want to do that now, before we get distracted?" He just wanted to stay here and kiss some more, get Brendon's briefs off him and fuck him slow and sweet.

"I'm already distracted," said Brendon. He slid his hand down and over Frank's cock, making his hips jerk involuntarily. Frank hissed a little, looking up and meeting Brendon's gaze. "I want to fuck you," Brendon said. Frank pressed forward into the hand still over his cock. He abandoned his first thought without hesitation and gave himself over to what Brendon wanted.

"Yeah, okay," he said. Brendon smiled and kissed him, just a simple touch of lips. "Lube's in the top drawer." Brendon rolled away to get it, shucking his briefs at the same time. Frank watched him, thinking back to the frenzied undressing of their first encounter, when Frank had just been thinking of getting laid. This was nice; it was something he wanted more of.

Brendon crawled back onto the bed and urged Frank to roll over, up onto his knees. Frank wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't for Brendon to lean in and lick right over his hole, wet and dirty. He yelped and Brendon moved back.

"Sorry, is this not something you do?" he asked.

"Just surprised," said Frank, though that wasn't quite the whole truth. It wasn't something he'd ever wanted to do or have done, but as Brendon lowered his head again and swiped his tongue roughly over the sensitive nerve endings, Frank thought it might be something he could grow to love. It felt both intimate and so filthy hot. He moaned brokenly as Brendon continued, working his tongue _inside_ him, getting him open and wet.

Frank lost track of time, existing between Brendon's hand on his hip and his tongue in his ass. Brendon added fingers to the mix, causing Frank to groan at the stretch and fullness. His arms were trembling with the effort of holding himself up, and he knew he was making noise, but he didn't care. It felt so good to lose himself in Brendon and not worry about it.

"Fuck, you're hot," said Brendon, kissing the base of his spine. "I need to fuck you now."

"Yes," gasped Frank. "Can I... I wanna see you."

"Yes, yes, good," said Brendon, helping him to roll over without mishap. Brendon pulled back enough to get a condom and rip open the packet while Frank wrestled a pillow under his hips and spread his legs wide. Brendon looked up his body, eyes dark and intent, and moved closer. Frank reached for him and pulled him in, wrapping his legs over Brendon's. Reaching between them, Brendon positioned himself and slid in, eyes fluttering closed as Frank opened up around him. Frank wound his arms around Brendon's shoulders and pulled him down to rest against him.

Frank arched up against Brendon as he started to move. He wanted to get closer still, even though their legs were entwined and his cock was rubbing against Brendon's belly as Brendon buried his face in Frank's neck.

"More," he urged. "Move, please." Brendon groaned into his neck and complied, pulling out and slamming back in. Each thrust was hard, with a dirty grind at the end and a breathless pause, as if Brendon needed the moment to assimilate the pleasure. Frank threw his head back and panted through each one, screwing his eyes tight closed and breathing out Brendon's name in a ragged mantra.

"Jesus, fuck, want you so bad," moaned Brendon. "Wanted you for so long, even when I thought you just wanted sex."

"I want more," said Frank as he carded his hand through Brendon's hair. He turned his head to press a kiss to his temple. "It's gonna be hard, but I want everything."

"Everything," repeated Brendon. He thrust even harder, slamming into Frank as hard as he could with the way they were pressed together. Frank moved with him, arching up to meet each thrust, fingers restless through Brendon's hair, over his shoulders and arms. He closed his fingers round Brendon's hand, heart warming when Brendon turned his hand over to lace their fingers together.

Frank edged closer and closer to his orgasm. His skin felt too tight and he was wound with tension all down his body. Each stroke of Brendon's cock in his ass nudged over his prostate, also rubbing Frank's cock up into Brendon's belly. He arched and shook, toes curling as he shuddered apart with a low moan of Brendon's name and the desperate clutch of his fingers in Brendon's shoulders. Brendon gasped into Frank's neck, strokes going erratic as he sank his teeth into soft skin and came hard.

Frank shoved at him with nerveless fingers after he collapsed onto his chest. With a moan, Brendon rolled away onto his back. He took off the condom with fingers that weren't quite steady and chucked it off the edge of the bed. Frank mopped at his belly with a corner of the sheet, watching as Brendon did the same. Frank opened his arms and sighed happily as Brendon snuggled close and splayed a possessive hand over Frank's chest. Eyes drifting closed, Frank felt more content than he could remember being for a long time.

&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

Brendon's phone woke them this time, but it was his alarm. Frank rolled over and snuggled into Brendon's back as he swore and fumbled with the buttons. He had set it early, so they had time for lazy hand jobs in the shower while they leaned against the tiles and kissed languidly. Frank lathered them both up, relishing the smooth skin under his hands. Brendon scrubbed at Frank's hair with a smile that said he knew just how much Frank liked that. Finally, they tumbled back into the bedroom and into their clothes. Brendon made a face at his as Frank occupied himself with the shitty coffee machine in the corner.

"You've got time to change them," said Frank, enjoying the view of Brendon without his shirt on. "You're going to be early."

"I have no idea how that happened," said Brendon. He hooked his chin over Frank's shoulder, hands coming to rest on Frank's hips. Tilting his head back and nuzzling into Brendon's neck, Frank smiled into his skin as the coffee hissed and spluttered. "I am never early. Want to come up to my room? We can see what Spencer thinks about sharing with Bob."

"Sure," said Frank. "Just let me pour a coffee." He didn't really want to let Brendon out of his sight for a while, not until he'd learned the map of his skin with the care of a lover, not the casual indifference of a quick fuck. He busied himself with a cup and the sugar. Brendon smiled like maybe he could see inside Frank's head and took his hand, towing him out of the room and towards the elevators, pausing as Frank took a small sip. They crowded into the corner of the car, close enough that Frank could stick his hand into the back pocket of Brendon's jeans without anyone noticing.

Brendon wrestled his keycard from his pocket as they left the lift, scanning the door numbers.

"Spencer is a total bitch before coffee," he warned. "Let's sneak in quietly."

"Dude, I hear you," said Frank. It wasn't like most of his band were little rays of morning sunshine. He tiptoed through the door behind Brendon, coming to an abrupt halt when he collided with Brendon's back, narrowly avoiding spilling his coffee. Brendon made a noise that somehow combined horror, outrage and unholy amusement and Frank peeked over his shoulder. He gave a little squeak of surprise.

"Spencer!" said Brendon. The occupants of the bed closest to the window separated from their kiss hastily, tugging discarded sheets up to their throats. Recovering from his surprise, Spencer sat up, the sheet pooling round his waist. He looked annoyed, but Frank's eye was drawn to the large purple marks on his neck and down his chest.

"I never would have picked Bob as a biter," he said.

"We walk on them _naked_ in a room that _reeks_ of sex, and that's all you have to say?" asked Brendon.

"Fuck off," said Spencer. "Now." He retained an impressive amount of dignity for someone who had just been caught naked with his legs up over Bob Bryar's shoulders.

"Dude," said Brendon, attention diverted from Frank back to the bed, "this totally puts a new light on the patient way you've been listening to me going on about Frank for the couple of months."

"Out, now," Bob said, taking over from Spencer. His ears were red, but he seemed completely unfazed by having Frank and Brendon walk in on them and discovering that he and his _boyfriend_ really were fucking bendy. "Frank, get the fuck out _now_."

"Bob, dude, was this why you were so keen on me getting together with Brendon? Have you been doing this all along?" Frank asked. He took a sip of his coffee.

"Fuck, they're like attention deficient squirrels," said Spencer. "Both of you. Fuck off. We're busy."

"No, no, we need to talk about rooms," said Brendon.

"Fuck, Brendon, you can arrange the rooms however you like, I will back you up to Ryan when you inevitably announce that you want to tour with My Chem, I will help you bedazzle a t-shirt with Frank's name on it, whatever you _like_, but get the fuck out of this room _right now_ or I will kill you with my _sticks_ and then tell Ryan about the scarf incident at that venue in Indiana."

Brendon blanched and backed away into Frank. "Dude, no need to be threatening," he said. Spencer bared his teeth and Brendon whimpered. Frank allowed himself to be pulled out the door. He leaned back against it and watched Brendon's face hover somewhere between horrified and amused. Frank took a big gulp of his coffee and waited until Brendon looked at him.

"Dude, two things," said Frank. "First, we never have to worry about room-swapping being an issue." Brendon brightened visibly. "Second, there is no way those two are going to be on time to the lobby." Brendon positively beamed at that and sandwiched Frank against the door in a swift hug.

"Let's go and get some breakfast," said Brendon.

"More coffee and a cigarette," replied Frank. A thump and a series of loud, unintelligible noises from inside the room made them both flinch and laugh.

"Dude, I _never_ would have taken Spencer for a screamer," said Brendon. "Let's go. I want a good spot to watch from in the lobby to see Spencer arrive late." Frank grinned and led the way to the elevator.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Maybe Wonderful (Magic Means Nothing Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/119266) by [coricomile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coricomile/pseuds/coricomile)




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